


In Basements

by verevolwes



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verevolwes/pseuds/verevolwes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Frantic in a darkened corner of someone else’s house, drunk on French words he can't understand, Babe comes apart again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Basements

**Author's Note:**

> I said I was going to write something explicit, and though this is a step up in rating from my last fic, I still wouldn't call it explicit.  
> Maybe someday ...

 

> “I’ve seen the world
> 
> And there’s no heaven and there’s no hell
> 
> I’ve seen the world
> 
> And there’s no heaven and there’s no hell
> 
> And I believe that when we die we die
> 
> So let me love you tonight
> 
> Let me love you tonight”

 

In short houses along the way to Hagenau from Foy they’d find whatever time they needed to be together. Crowded into small bathrooms or in dark basements which weren’t useful, it seemed, for anything else, Babe would often find himself pushed up against a wall, breath hitching as silently as possible.

Like tonight, for example.

Packed up tight against a brick basement wall, Gene is quiet. He whispers French just loud enough for Babe to hear but soft enough not to or echo through the cellar. He speaks directly into Babe’s skin, lips against his neck, tongue lolling out to taste salt and sweat.

Frantic in a darkened corner of someone else’s house, drunk on French words he can’t understand, Babe comes apart again. No adrenalin rush he had ever experienced in combat could compare with this; no amount of alcohol consumed could make him feel as dizzy.

Whatever this is, Babe thinks, it almost makes up for sleeping in foxholes and the bombed-out shells of what used to be houses.

Whatever it makes him for thinking that, his mind continues, can wait until they’re done.

 “Babe … _J’ai besoin_ -“

“Gene,” he breaths.

 “... _J’ai besoin de toi_.”

“Gene …”

 “Oh _baiser - baise je t'aime_ …”

“Gene”

 

Later, when they’ve returned to their separate beds Babe will think about the questions to which he owes himself an answer, but dismiss them quickly enough for fear of ruining a good thing.

The only good thing he has at the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics come from the song Book of Revelation by The Drums off of their album Portamento.


End file.
